grace grits and gardening

Today I intended to write about my weekend and the spring-like weather and how my tulips and daffodils are peeking through the soil and how one incredible thing after another happened including I got a new car! And, all these things are true.

Maybe I’ll write about them tomorrow.

But today?

Today, I sit and stare into space trying to wrap my brain around the devastating news I received just hours ago. News that a friend has died.

I attended Baylor with Craig Farrelly. He was in my wedding.

One week ago, I saw his sweet wife at my book signing in Blytheville. We briefly chatted about their recent move from Osceola to Memphis. I didn’t get a chance to ask where’s Craig? but I assumed he was somewhere inside the crowded bookstore. Craig knew everyone, and he loved to talk and laugh and was not the type to stand in a long, slow, boring line.

But I never saw him. And that was that.

Today, everything I’ve been working toward and worrying about seems inconsequential as I am reminded that life is oh so fleeting and precious and unpredictable. We have such a limited time to make a difference, to help someone, to brighten someone’s day.

To do something that matters.

To be kind to one another.

To exist.

Today, I sit and stare into space and search for an answer knowing there isn’t one. And I’m feeling smothered with friend guilt, wondering if I could have done anything. Any small thing to make a difference.

After a week of warm weather, snow is in the forecast for Northwest Arkansas, and I think about my tender tulips and daffodils barely poking through the ground, and it all seems so incredibly tragic.

RIP friend.

Musical Pairing:
James Taylor & Carly Simon, Close Your Eyes